


Gravity

by staroamer



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AI, Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Has a Tail, M/M, Queen Allura (Voltron), Rebel Keith (Voltron), Self-Sacrifice, Shiro (Voltron) is Missing, War in space but not the VLD universe, also some steamy scenes in the future, lance is protective of keith, they fall in love and it's sweet and kinda sad but mostly sweet i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-14 13:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18053294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staroamer/pseuds/staroamer
Summary: "Keith tenses and powers up his guns, thumbs sliding over the two levers on either side of his piloting chair. He supposes if they're going to send a scout to take out lone survivors, he might as well put up some kind of fight.But then a voice cuts through, clear as crystal and soft in the dark."Hello, Pilot."If this is the enemy, Keith has never heard them sound so gentle."/ Keith is a rebel in the war against a mad king and he has recently lost his entire team to battle. Alone and injured, he has no hope for rescue. But just as he's readying himself for another fight, his last fight, a voice cuts through the dark and he is saved. Soon, he becomes torn, wanting nothing more than to stay with the new family he's forged but knowing he has to leave to keep them safe from a similar fate. If only it were that simple. /





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 

_Sometimes I think gravity may be death in disguise. Other times I think gravity is love, which is why love's only demand is that we fall._

_- Shaun David Hutchinson_

 

* * *

 

 

★

  

Keith used to think that open space was peaceful. It was full of promise, full of opportunity away from his home planet with new life passing with each burning star. But now all he can do is allow the dark expanse to swallow him whole. His battle cruiser is set adrift, lights blinking with the threat of full shutdown from too much use of his ion engines. The gunfire has long since passed but still ships smoke from internal fire, creating a strewn, violent landscape.

His breathing is ragged, eyes squeezed shut against blood slowly dripping down his temple. If not for his helmet he'd surely have a collapsed skull from the force of a blunt impact. With a grunt he rips his safety belt from his chest and sags, opening his bleary eyes to focus on the console in front of hi. He won't look outside. He refuses to see the drifting bodies of his comrades; of his friends. They're lost to the infinite now, to a place where he cannot yet follow.

Slamming his hand down, he waits for his AI to respond, to lead him somewhere safe. With no home ship to return to, he's stranded.

He's alone.

He slams the console again and again, urging Katix to reply, to speak in the voice that he regularly joked about grating his ears. But now that she's silent he wants nothing more than to hear her. To hear anything: any beep, any laugh, any whisper that someone else made it.

 _"C'mon."_ He whispers, throat parched and sore from the last yell that had been ripped from him.

In his head he can still hear the screams of his friends, the sounds going 'round and 'round; rinse and repeat. One after another the Galra had blasted them to pieces, focusing most of their firepower on the ship that Keith has long since called his home. There, Katix waited for him. There, his AI had become one of his closest friends.

It's only luck that Keith survived this at all. Well, luck and stupidity. If he'd follow behind his fleet, if he hadn't zoomed ahead to take out a strong line of defense, he'd probably be floating with them. He'd be gone. The battle had been won but he feels worse than ever- a shaking, sick mess.

A buzzing nose makes him jump and he assumes it's the enemy reporting back to their captain. The drones they usually send into the field are known to relay info before Keith can shoot them down. But for just this moment, he doesn't care. He just listens, arms braced on his console.

_"...target...field obliterated.."_

Keith tenses and powers up his guns, thumbs sliding over the two levers on either side of his piloting chair. He supposes if they're going to send a scout to take out lone survivors, he might as well put up some kind of fight.

But then a voice cuts through, clear as crystal and soft in the dark.

"Hello, Pilot."

If this is the enemy, Keith has never heard them sound so gentle. There's no growling tilt to the words, no underlying snide terror waiting to be unleashed. There is only a quiet accent, rolling on the tongue.

"Who-" Keith's voice cracks and he tries to clear his throat, to speak as if he weren't so dehydrated. "Who're you?"

The voice is close to emotionless but it's there all the same and when they speak again, Keith holds onto the sound like a lifeline.

"An AI for the Queen of surviving Altea and the Peace Coalition." The person waits only a moment before continuing, "My readings show that you are aligned with rebel forces, specifically the Blade of Marmora. Is this correct?"

"Yeah." Keith finally looks up, eyes instantly growing damp from what he sees. "Yeah. It's just me."

He tries to look past it, to search and find where this transmission could possibly be coming from. Other than the enemy drones and torn metal, he sees no surviving ship.

"Very good. Hold tight, Pilot. We are coming to you."

In the next minute, a wormhole erupts like a storm. A spinning vortex of color makes Keith shield his eyes, the electric bursts of silver and blue and purple flashing like lightning. A ship slides through with ease, the size gargantuan compared to Keith's own small battle cruiser. Several engines push the ship forward and he can see, clear as day, the elegant symbol embedded on either side.

The crest of Altea, home to the last queen and Keith's most powerful ally.

Keith lets out a heavy breath, chest practically caving at the thought that throughout all of space, they managed to find him _here_. Compared to the main fights on the front lines, where whole planets are under heavy fire, Keith's battle is in a back-alley. A smaller fight to help the greater, where his team only managed to find the Galran base on an asteroid by pure chance.

"Enter our lower field and we will pull you to safety." The voice interrupts Keith's shock, "Docking will commence shortly."

Keith only grunts in response, hoping this new AI can read the intent. Keith fires up his own engines and listens to the rattle, the damage no doubt monumental. If he weren't be saved he'd probably be stranded, where he would eventually succumb to his dehydration and starvation. But he pushes forward anyway, trying and failing to keep his eyes from the bodies that float by. Through the shrapnel the dark suits of his comrades blend into the void. But their faces? He knows each one by name, by heart, easy to hear by the tone of their voice.

There's Zefra and Pip, Kono and Regris and Antok-

Something sharp pierces his chest and he speeds up, silently apologizing to their corpses. As if they would blame him for what has happened, for him leaving them behind, even if he can do nothing for them now.

Once he's beneath the huge battle ship, the doors slide open and lights spill out, blinding in pure essence. Keith shuts his eyes and feels the pressure pull him up, the groan of his ship worrying enough that he holds extra tight to his chair.

Then the voice returns, calm as flowing water. "You're safe now, Pilot. You've done well."

"Yeah." Keith hisses, a foul feeling settling in his belly. He deserves no congratulations. No comfort. "Thanks."

The AI takes his anger in stride, "You will find rest here, under the Queen's protection." The voice becomes clearer the closer Keith gets to entry, until he hears the unmistakable depth. And soon, the strange hint of something more in his tone. "I am sorry for your loss."

Before Keith can open his eyes, full of surprise, the AI cuts all communications.

And Keith enters the ship.

 

★

 

Leaving his cruiser is harder than it's ever been.

Keith takes his time, running his hands along the center console and the leather of his seat, eyes taking in each sparking wire and blinking light. Because he knows that once his hatch opens, he will likely never see the inside of this ship again. Once he looks to those who saved him, it will hit him even harder that they aren't his team. They won't be the people he's fought beside for the last few years, those who found him on his waste of planet and brought him to something more. Something important and real and full of purpose.

When he exits, he is faced with strangers.

They watch him as if he were a scared animal, eager to snap at their necks and pull away the flesh. He could blame it on his sharp teeth, pointed like the Galra, or the harsh tilt of his eyes, no doubt glowing a faint purple. If he weren't so used to his own appearance and the reactions of others, he'd probably find the time to be offended.

Still, it's humiliating to see the people of Altea and their allies stare at him like this. Some in fear, knowing that Galra had turned against Galra but seeming unwilling to believe it. Faced with a rebel, with a rabid dog of the resistance, they are probably rethinking their beliefs that he is a farce. A lie told by civilians to ease their fears.

Keith holds his helmet tighter in his grip and stands before all of them, war-torn and full of aches. The blood on his face has dripped to fall along his collar and his chest, staining the Marmoran symbol in shades of deep red. His hair is a mess and a cut runs the length of his arm, the suit having ripped with a slice of his own ship as he was jostled.

Eventually, just as he debates taking of their own fucking ships and getting the hell out of here, the crowd begins to part. They rip their eyes away and bow their heads, all sporting different colored patches on their arms to show their stations: mechanics and engineers, scientists and fighters and strategists.

Keith can't find it within himself to follow suit. Instead, he simply lowers his eyes. Just once, if only because he's never met royalty and never thought he would. He wonders if she'll be as pompous as those on his own planet or if she'll be as merciless as Zarkon, the mad king in the heart of the Nebrilux system.

Queen Allura stand as regal as a deity.

Her silver hair is cut short but it falls thick, brown skin practically glowing beneath the bright lights of the hangar bay. Her attire is that of armor though it looks rather pristine, the cape that falls from one broad shoulder a deep and luxurious blue. Keith trails his eyes to the weapon at her side, a whip of pure gold and Agniti, an element formed in the midst of a Flame Nebula. It's impressive and ancient and Keith is a bit transfixed, if only because he can see the molten colors flowing within.

Allura studies him in turn, her eyes hard at the sight of his light violet skin. Not as dark as a pure Galra but there all the same, as if he'd been brushed with the color. She schools her features and purses her lips, hands held behind her back.

"A Marmoran." She says, confirming everyone else's suspicions. "And the last from the battle, it seems."

Keith clenches his jaw but nods in confirmation.

"I take it you've won."

He nods again.

"Good." She suddenly relaxes her shoulders and strides forward, face losing just a bit of tension. "Though your losses are great, the outcome is for a better future."

He wonders if it's a slogan, a way to keep her hopes up and keep her soldiers from losing theirs.

"Sure." He brings an arm to wipe at the blood drying on his cheek.

Her eyes catch the movement and she immediately turns to a man with orange hair, "Coran, he needs assistance. Take him to the med bay."

The man jumps to action and reaches for Keith only to fall back soon after, obviously knowing a wall of defense when he sees one. Looking a bit apologetic, he motions for them to head toward the door.

"No worries." He tries for a smile, "Just follow me to the bay and I'll fix you right up!"

His voice is loud and Keith winces, quick to follow after him and get away from the stares. The ship's population lets him pass with soft whispers, pointed ears and other alien appendages twitching when he glances at them, mouths thinning to frowns when he brushes past. He spots different races spread throughout the room, though none like him. No Galra. No Marmoran's.

Gulping, he hurries to keep up with Coran as the man chatters about something Keith's can't really focus on. He hears explosions in his ears and knows the screams will follow again soon after. Shaking his head, he pushes at his temples with his fingers, working the skin to ease the pain of an incoming headache. Glancing up, he tries to distract himself.

With each step he takes the hallways become dimmer, almost tranquil compared to those in the hangar. Blue light filters against the white tile, undulating like he's underneath water. Rooms, closed off by standard sliding-tech doors, line up one after another. Some entryways are left open and he can spot objects full of wires and compartments, some rooms giving way to couches and beds and walls covered in maps.

"To the right is the observatory." Coran's voice suddenly breaks through Keith's mindless staring, "Not much importance in there, other than the view. It's usually empty but sometimes there comes a visitor."

Keith startles at a figure in front of the huge window, stars zooming past as the ship finally speeds through the cosmos and leaves the graveyard behind. A man stands with hands held behind his back, dark pants tight at the ankles above bare feet. A simple loose shirt hangs from one brown shoulder, the size obviously too big but probably very comfortable. Keith feels the harsh confines of his own suit and can't help but wish it were off. Coran continues on but Keith lingers, just for a moment. Just to take the scene in, to bask in the peace and calm.

The man tenses and turns his head, brown hair falling across a cheek before he meets Keith's curious gaze. Blue eyes shine bright, so luminous Keith thinks he must have hit his head even harder than he thought. But then the man is turning away again and Coran is circling back, blocking Keith's view with a puff of breath against his orange mustache.

"Let's get you to a pod." He risks touching Keith's elbow but Keith pulls away just as fast, waiting until the man walks away again to take another look.

But when his sight settles on the window, the man is gone.

 

★

 

Keith wishes the Blade had tech like this. Sure, they had weapons of advanced degree, swords that could fry bones, blasters that could push plasma through multiple thick walls to reach the target.

But _healing pods?_

Keith could have saved himself a lot of pain with these things.

Upon waking, he feels as if he's floating. As if the anti-gravity had been kicked into overdrive and he'd been left stranded again, eyes blurry against the bright light of the med bay. He stumbles out of the pod but a hand steadies him, orange flashing in his peripheral.

"Woah, there." Coran eases Keith into a chair, quickly pulling his hand away in a show of respect. "It's best to take it easy after waking."

"How long was I asleep?" Keith mumbles.

"Four days."

Keith's eyes widen and his hand shoots to his temple, shocked that he doesn't even feel a bump.

"The pods heal trauma to the head the slowest." Coran explains, pouring something pink and fruity into a glass. "Best to sort them out with care. Don't want a mishap when it comes to something as important as your brain."

Keith accepts the drink and sniffs at it, distaste already coating his tongue. He's never been one to be particularly fond of sweet things. But he takes a hearty gulp anyway, feeling the cool liquid pour into his empty stomach. It's surprisingly refreshing and it sends a shiver to his skin, shoulders immediately sagging in relief. Coran passes him something hard and he bites into it willingly, enjoying the bitter taste much more.

"So," Coran sighs and picks up a tablet, colors flashing across the screen as he swipes a finger, "how're you feeling, my boy?"

Keith grunts, "Fine."

"I'm going to need a bit more information than that."

Swallowing the last of the food, Keith winces. "Tired. But fine. Really."

Coran nods and types something, mustache twitching before he speaks again. "Glad to hear it. I take it the battle was a long one?"

"Five hours."

"It's impressive, you know. Our readings show that your odds of survival were rather slim. Your team of ten against an entire Galran base and warship-"

"We _didn't_ survive." Keith snaps.

Coran goes quiet, something unreadable passing over his face. Luckily, Keith doesn't spot any pity. At least not on the surface.

"Either way, the Queen will be documenting your victory." Coran glances toward the door, "I'm sure we can talk more later, after you've caught up on your sleep. While the pods heal you, they only thrust you into a light slumber in order to work on your physical injuries. Would you like a tour first? Or perhaps just go to your room?"

"A shower would be nice." Keith snaps.

He opens his mouth to apologize because the man hasn't done anything to warrant his aggression but before he can start, Coran is smiling again in earnest. He presses a finger to his tablet and someone enters the room, motioning for Keith to follow. Keith stand slowly, only following when Coran gives him a lone nod. They walk in silence, he and the guide, but he doesn't mind.

Once he's in the showers, he's almost too eager to step inside. He figures out the controls easily enough and listens to the spray of water as it hits the cold floor before stripping himself of the strange suit they put him in. He'd rather not think about how they managed to get him in it and instead he focuses on his breathing, the slow drag of oxygen in and out and back in again. The water hits his back and he rolls his shoulders, urging his muscles to relax. He lifts his face and warm drops fall across his cheeks, flattening his black hair against his neck as he gives himself to the simple nature of becoming clean.

It's not renewal, not in every sense of the word. But it's fresh and it's comforting enough to take his mind off of what is to come. Off of Alteans and battles and death and, of course, Shiro. Always Shiro. The thought of his best friend makes his breath stutter but he just pushes through it, forcing himself to focus on literally anything else. On the strange dial next to his head, on the sound of voices floating in the distance, on the smooth drive of this ship through the cosmos.

When he steps out of the shower, he doesn't question who brought him new clothes. He simply slips them on and runs his fingers through his hair once, letting the drops of water sprinkle to the floor as he makes his way out of the showers. His guide had pointed to his room on the way so Keith tries to recall the path that will lead him there. He passes several empty hallways and takes a few wrong turns before finding his destination. It's even quieter here, the location no doubt intentional. He figures it's to ease him into this new space, to help him settle from a mode of pure viciousness and survival.

He welcomes the silence.

With a swipe of his hand on the sensor beside the door, he admits he's a bit surprised that it turns green and opens. But with a swish of cool stale air, it does. He eyes the bed and doesn't hesitate to fall face first against the soft sheets, eyes closing almost immediately.

In the few seconds before sleep, he doesn't think of anything important. He turns on his side and blinks slow, listening to the hum of the engines. He barely notices the lights start to dim and he doesn't really think about how he should have been the one to do it. He wonders if they're timed. Or motion censored.

In the end, he guesses it doesn't matter.

He yawns and feels himself grow heavy, body sinking into the bed.

And then he's asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it to the end of this first chapter, ily
> 
> Let me know what you think! The next chapter will be up soon.


	2. Chapter 2

 

Keith grew up on a backwater planet. One of the forgotten places, shadowed by a universe that would forever be infinitely bigger than them.

The terrain was rocky, molded by time and an unforgiving sun. His skin was almost always dry and he scavenged to survive, having long since grown used to going to bed with pains in his stomach. There were other Galra there, though most of them were outcasts too. Lost, abandoned, tossed aside by the very people meant to care for them. Keith found only a small bit of solace in that because though they had similarities, he made few friends. Family was as foreign to him as distant burning stars and just as dream-worthy too. Many nights he would find himself on the roof of a building or house and he would be looking to those stars wondering maybe, somewhere, his family was on their way back. Or that he would find them one day and they would travel forever, gliding through the cosmos like a fairy tale.

His first night aboard the Queen's ship, he dreams only of those stars. And between the flutter of his eyes behind his lids, he hears a voice. It's as familiar to him as his own, though the man hasn't been seen in months.

_What are you doing up here?_ Shiro had said the night he found Keith, _Star gazing?_

Keith hadn't replied, of course. How could he? Usually he was alone for hours like this and it was never smart to reply to strangers. Still, the man sat down then and he kept a good distance between them.

_You know, I came from a planet like this._ He glanced at Keith, looking both similar and very different, all at once. _But my planet had more water._

_How much water?_

If he was surprised that Keith replied, he didn't show it. He simply smirked and spread an arm wide, indicating the entire expanse of the horizon.

_As far as the eye can see. But the planet got too hot and we messed it up pretty bad. All that water took the world back, sending our cities beneath the waves._

_Is that why you're here? Because this planet will never drown?_

Shiro shook his head, _I'm here on a mission._

Keith's eyes lit up and he finally took the time to study the stranger. He would do that a lot over the years, practically memorizing his features and the way he talks; even the way he sleeps, when scary memories made him turn and vomit onto the floor. Keith would grow to understand the reasons for this, of course. For he too would wake up in a similar fashion: forged by loss, stuck in a loop and mourning those he's left behind.

 

★

 

Waking to soft blue light makes Keith think for just a moment that he's back home. Not on his old planet or the huge ship that would carry his team through the stars. No, he figured he was back on base, where he grew and trained and came to hone his skills in ways he never knew he could. But with another few blinks and a shift above the sheets, he knows this isn't the case.

Heartache hits him like a dust storm. It steals his breath and leaves him feeling hot all over, practically suffocating. He sits up fast and swallows against a sore throat, hand resting on the quick beat and flutter of his erratic heart.

_Breathe._ Shiro would say, hands framing Keith's cheeks. _Remember, you are alive. Just breathe._

Keith takes a full swell of breath, feeling it enter his lungs with blessed relief. His tail twitches and he shifts to feel the cold floor beneath his feet, a grounding touch. As gravity returns to him and he isn't left floating in the panic, he manages to stand and only sway once. Nausea rolls in his stomach and he blinks away a surge of unwanted sights; of floating bodies and torn ships. Eager for distraction, moves to the small sink in his room and splashes his face with frigid water.

It settles him. He feels the drops trail down his cheeks and he takes several minutes using his senses to remain grounded.

_What do you feel?_ Shiro would ask, trying to meet Keith's panicked gaze. The first time it happened, he was still a kit. They had just returned from aiding Kolivan on a hostile planet and though Keith only partook in a small stealth mission, he saw all the bloody horrors on the ground. _What do you hear? Taste? Smell?_

"Citrus." Keith says to himself, sniffing. It could be coming from the vents for all he cares. The only thing that matters is that he smells it and it isn't just stale ship air for once, instead almost a balm to his senses.

Opening his eyes, he avoids the mirror. He simply goes about dressing and calming his shaking fingers, gulping at the bouts of vomit trying to escape his throat. He dons pants that are not his own and a shirt that is a bit too big but good enough to tuck in the front. At least his boots are familiar. He laces them and gladly sheathes his knife on his hip, wondering if he can find somewhere to run. Though he'd been known to sprint around the halls back home, he can't just do as he pleases on a ship like this.

When he opens the door, he should have expected someone to be waiting. The crew member is dressed in a simple uniform: stark white with an orange patch on the sleeve. She smiles at Keith and introduces herself as Romelle, cousin to Allura and one of Coran's youngest apprentices.

"I'm here to assess your vitals." She says, pushing two thick braids of hair behind her shoulders. "If you don't mind, that is."

"Go ahead." Keith grunts, wondering why this couldn't wait.

She motions for him to stand still and waves a metallic instrument along his body, a soft yellow light glowing. It flickers to red for just a moment and she winces, eyes sweeping his face before returning to the tablet in her other hand.

"Everything looks mostly stable." She twists her mouth and bites her cheek in thought.

"What?" Keith asks.

She returns the instrument and the tablet to the pouch on her hip before waving a hand, smile returning. "The Dranek-90 detects both physical and mental ailments. It simply picked up the latter when taking a reading of your mind."

"Oh." Keith gulps and gives a small nod. "Right."

"You're probably starving." She quickly changes the subject and motions for him to follow her, much to his relief. "The dining hall is a bit of a walk from your sleeping quarters but at least it allows the crowd to dwindle before you arrive. Do you have a favorite food? Or maybe a drink, perhaps?"

"No."

She glances at him but doesn't comment any further. Instead, she simply leads the way and explains how things work. The food is predetermined by the cooks but one can put in a special order if they happen to have the ingredients. Most are things Keith has never heard of before but he nods as if he understands. Meals are sectioned three times a day but breakfast is the largest and most important.

"Most people despise waking up for breakfast." Romelle says, "But I rather like it. Still, everyone eats and goes on with their business quick enough. Depending on when you arrive, you could find the dining hall quiet if that's what you prefer."

They round a final corner and enter through a set of sliding doors, the sound soft as it pushes a waft of smells toward them. The air is warm but comfortable and he's actually a bit surprised to find the place _is_ mostly empty, save for a few tables on the far side of the room. Romelle shows him to the food line and asks if he has any questions, to which he declines.

"Allura would like to speak with you after you eat, then. Follow the corridor to the observation deck, the room you passed when you arrived. Signs are posted but you can always ask someone for direction should you need help finding your way."

With a final smile, she leaves.

Keith holds tight to his plate and walks to a lone table, eager to eat and get out. Though he has no problem sitting alone he can't help but feel the eyes on his back, watching him as if he were going to erupt. The small group of soldiers talk quietly among themselves for the most part but when Keith glances their way, they don't hide the way they stare. While not hostile, the looks aren't very pleasant either.

As he chews, slow and steady, he can't help but wish he had someone familiar at his side. While his younger self had been used to isolation, who he is now sort of hates it. He wouldn't even mind if Romelle came back. The food is good and it fills him well but he still isn't fond of the drink, which sits sticky sweet on his tongue. He takes his time and ignores the impending meeting with Allura, which is sure to be full of questions and assumptions. Only after the group of soldiers leave does he finally stand to place his own tray on a flowing conveyor belt, watching as it is whisked away.

 

★

 

The observation deck isn't as full as Keith thought it would be. Though guards and soldiers are placed around the room, there are only a few others surrounding Allura herself. Coran is one of them, along with a strong, broad woman and a girl with a thin frame and large glasses. She looks at Keith with curiosity, though most of her attention is continually shifted to a small device in her hands. Sitting on the steps, she looks more like a child than a scientist.

Allura herself stands around a large table, the likes of which rose from the floor to convey a map of the known cosmos. Keith watches the glowing orbs and tries to find his old planet, though it's like trying to pick a piece of sand from a trillion dunes. Giving up, he looks to the Queen and holds her gaze, knowing she sees him as a seasoned soldier and nothing more. He is no leader, no politician or king.

"So the Blade has taken out most Galran bases along the Kuni and Rslepe systems." She flicks her hand and the hologram shifts, zooming through light years of planets and stars. She stops on the Kuni system, eyeing the coordinates. "If what you say is true, I owe you all a very large thank you."

"It's true." Keith confirms, "If you connect transmission to any of the planets they will tell you that they are free."

"I take your word for it. Though if the Blade is so largely spread, how have we only come into contact with you now?"

"In case you haven't noticed, your Highness, we aren't exactly welcome wherever we go." He glances around him, at the faces highlighted by the holographic glow. "We look feral. Strange. Like the enemy."

" _You_ are not our enemy." Allura counters, though her eyes flick momentarily to his tail. "You will find no hatred aboard my ship. All are welcome here."

Looking away from her, Keith returns his attention to the map. He raises a hand and shifts the hologram, until a familiar sight greets him. "This is where we last intercepted a feed from the Emperor-"

"From the Emperor?" Coran asks, shocked. "How did you manage that?"

"The Blade are everywhere." Keith says, though he doesn't clarify or go into detail.

Allura looks, for the first time, rather impressed.

"This feed." She raises a brow, "What was it?"

Keith scowls at the memory, recalling the way the video started with extreme violence. "An execution."

The room goes still but he can tell that it isn't from surprise. They know, just as everyone else does, that the Emperor is without mercy. Without reason. Without honor.

"From what we could gather, the soldiers had been charged with treason. They weren't members of the Blade but they were rebelling in their own way...or the only way they knew how. They were caught giving rations and water to prisoners meant for the same firing squad. Zarkon made it clear that this was unforgivable. He made a spectacle of it."

Allura bows her head and lets out a heavy breath. But just as fast, she rises again, hiding whatever emotions could be thrashing within.

"Is there any way you could get in contact with your informants inside of his ship now?" She asks, glancing at the girl with the glasses. "Pidge can easily hide our transmissions and cloak the trail it leaves behind."

Keith grimaces, "It's been a long time since we've tried to make contact-"

"You _must_ try." Allura softens her tone a moment later, "This would be crucial to our victory. If we have constant surveillance of the Emperor himself... Keith, it could change _everything_. It could alter the tide of the war."

Silence falls. Everyone looks to Keith, expectant. 

"I need to get in contact with my leader first." Keith eventually relents, though not without a twisting, guilty pain in his gut. To talk to Kolivan again and bring with him such terrible news, to admit that he let his comrades die _, again,_ makes Keith want to hurl.

Allura nods immediately, "I can build a team to help you and I will find you when it's complete." She meets his eye and waits for him to agree, face relaxing just a tad when he does. "Thank you for meeting me here today."

Meeting adjourned.

 

★

 

Keith watches everyone leave one after another, voices quiet. There's a new energy surrounding them, one that should leave Keith hopeful. But all he can do is sit the moment they are gone, hand rubbing at his eyes. Energy is hard to come by but he desperately needs to build it back up, feeling out of control and totally out of his element. He's been trained for any situation: for collapsing stars and hours of gunfire and exploding warships. He's been trained to handle the death of his teammates and his own death, whenever and wherever that may be.

He was never trained to be in the presence of the Queen.

He never thought he'd be important enough or live long enough to have the chance. Now she's speaking of bringing a group of people to him, for him to lead and all it does is send dread shooting through him.

Wherever he goes, death only follows.

"That was a bit tense, don't you think?"

The voice that echoes around the room makes Keith pause, his breath hitching. He should have heard someone entering the observation deck and yet he hadn't until now. A flutter of clothes and cool air brush against him as the person sits beside him, brown feet visible from Keith's peripheral.

When he looks up, he is met with eyes of deep blue.

"Hello, Pilot." The boy smirks, gaze roaming Keith's face before turning to the stars ahead.

"You." Keith says, watching as the boy tilts his head just a tad in greeting.

Keith recalls him slowly, remembering him from the haze and heartbreak of his arrival on the ship. He remembers seeing the boy in this very room, looking at the stars with just as much wonder as he does right now. His jaw his strong but his features soft, lashes long and thick against his cheeks when he blinks. Two Altean marks rest beneath his eyes, the crescents smaller than Allura's but just as regal. Brown hair curls a bit beneath pointed ears, golden cuffs looping around the lobes.

"Me." The boy nods, amusement thick in his tone. He leans back on his hands, eyes flitting over open space. 

"You're the one who talked to me when I was stranded." Keith continues, "I thought you were an AI."

The boy rolls his eyes, "I am."

The words hang heavy in the air. Keith is startled, that much is clear. He blinks and shifts, opening and closing his mouth in astonishment.

"What?" The boy finally turns to look at him again, expression unreadable. "I thought _you_ of all people would be accepting of those deemed different. I assumed you wouldn't mind."

"I...I'm-"

"Allura may be a Queen but she's also rather smart." The boy continues, "Well, her and Pidge. They can be a dream team just as much as a nightmare when they're intent on a new invention."

"Sorry." Keith blurts, cheeks flaming. "I'm not trying to be rude or anything, it's just... my old AI, she never had a-" He motions to Lance's body, wondering if he were to touch if the boy if he would flicker or fade.

"I'm the first of my kind." He grins, teeth white. "It's cool, right?"

"Uh, yeah." Keith nods and he means it. "Do you have a name?"

"Of _course_ I have a name." The boy snaps. He whips his attention to Keith, eyes bright and full of heat, anger on the tip of his tongue. But soon he settles, seeming to take control of himself. He blinks and looks away again, gulping. "I'm Lance."

"I'm-"

"Keith. I know that already." Lance snickers, "You're all anyone can talk about now."

"Right."

Lance glances at him, voice softer. "They're just curious, that's all. They've never seen someone like you."

"Galra are everywhere."

"I meant someone so brave."

Keith startles, almost immediately uncomfortable. Compliments have never sat well with him. He likes critique and suggestions for improvement, quick interjections that can help his form and skill.

"Allura is brave." Keith counters, "Everyone fighting this war is _brave_. I'm not special."

"They have entire fleets to help them in battle. From what I've heard, most times it is just you. Isn't that what you rebels are all about? Solitary attacks, a small team at most. You go where many fear to tread."

"I'm not special." Keith simply repeats.

Lance is quiet. In the silence, Keith tries to push away thoughts of Shiro, remembering a time when he believed differently. When Shiro was around, Keith was always told that he mattered. That the mission was important, that he couldn't save everyone, but he wasn't just a piece on a game board.

Beside him, Lance has gone very still. Then he is standing, eyes glowing a very feint, almost nonexistent blue.

"I have to go." He blinks and the light is gone, though a soft smile has returned to his lips. He lifts a hand in a small salute, two fingers to his forehead. "It was nice talking to ya, Pilot. I'll be seeing you."

Looking at Keith for only a moment longer, he lowers his hand and flickers before disappearing completely, not a trace of him left behind. In his absence, the observation deck is once again a quiet, lonely place. Even after Keith leaves, finally finding the training room and space to run, his mind drifts.

He thinks about Lance for the rest of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [staroamer](https://staroamer.tumblr.com/)


End file.
